Cellmate
by Scorpia710
Summary: Alex comes across fanfiction and it leads to unexpected consequences.


Disclaimer: I make no money of this work of fiction. Alex Rider belongs to Anthony Horowitz, and Harry Potter to J.K.R.

………………………………..............

There was sunlight warming the skin of his face. Alex smiled sleepily at the unfamiliar occurrence. Lately he had grown used to cloudy skies promising rain, snow, or both. He turned his head to the side to avoid the sunbeam and as he slowly came to be conscious, he realized that the light was divided.

Opening one eye, Alex saw a barred window.

He blinked lazily, his sleep muddled mind making him slow as he tried to remember where he was. Why were there bars on his window? Had some salesman convinced Jack her house was severely under protected?

Sitting up in curiosity, Alex brought one hand up to wipe the sleep from his eyes and looked around the room. It took him a moment to notice he had never been here before.

Perhaps Tom had once again 'kidnapped' him while he was asleep, like what had happened last year? Alex had been able to laugh that off; after all, it was kind of funny. Even though waking up on the front lawn was not very comfortable.... But what if this was a test brought to him courtesy of MI6 to make sure he stayed on his toes during the holiday they had 'generously' given him?

He had fallen asleep in his bed surrounded by quilts to block off the cold winter chill. Jack peered into the room a few hours after he had went to bed and had thought he was asleep. But Alex had not slept well for a while.

Now it seemed Jack was forever worried about him since he had come back from his last mission so quiet, and she always checked in on him before going to bed.

Alex couldn't find it in himself to be annoyed; she had a right to be worried. Sometimes he worried too.

Therefore, he didn't say anything negative when she hugged him a little too long, or watched him a little too closely. Alex figured allowing her to squeeze him like a beloved teddy bear was the least he could do…and it wasn't like he minded too much.

So, Alex thought, if I fell asleep in my bed--what am I doing here?

The room was rounded with a tall ceiling, like the tower from some fairytale and the brick a deep grey with spots that had broken off.

Looking around curiously Alex stood up and wondered why it was so quiet.

Wandering over to the door, Alex reached for the handle-just to find that there wasn't one. Frowning and feeling rather stupid for not noticing that sooner, Alex pulled back and rammed the door with his shoulder.

Alex heard what he guessed was a padlock scraping against the other side of the door in a low swinging motion. Frowning, Alex glared at the door but was quite prepared to try again.

Then, there was a swishing noise to his left, like fabric sweeping over stone. With his spy senses tingling, Alex turned around with dread filling his stomach.

His eyes fell on the dark robes first; they reached the floor where they gathered around pale, sickly looking feet. Feeling slight disgust already, he  
let his eyes travel up the expanse of black to a…well surely it wasn't someone's face?

Alex felt his eyes widen. His mouth might have dropped a little as well, but in his current state of shock, he could not be sure.

Red eyes examined him in disinterest, and the arrogance in his face made Alex feel defensive.

Thin lips did not help his already disastrous looks, his nose was barely noticeable and there were faint lines across his bald and pale head.

"You aren't Potter."

Those words confirmed what Alex had already been thinking, but didn't make his position any less bizarre.

His eyes took in Alex's light hair and his slightly short stature with an uninterested glance.

"And you're not the Malfoy boy," Voldemort said as he did a slow walk towards Alex.

I have gone barmy, Alex thought with a resigned sigh. He knew it would happen sooner or later, how could it not with MI6 using him like they did?

"The clothes you wear are that of a Muggle," Voldemort said with disgust in his voice, "as well as your attitude-unintelligent and frightened into  
speechlessness."

Yes, he was absolutely mad. But the insult shook Alex out of his state of disbelief.

Or perhaps I'm just smart enough to not speak until I know what I'm dealing with, Alex thought sarcastically even though many situations in his past would say he was lying. He could not even think of one time where he'd not mocked his captors.

He turned to where Voldemort was examining his other side.

"Dude, you're wearing a dress. I wouldn't go around throwing insults."

"It speaks."

"I do more than speak, I kick ass--"

"Arse," Voldemort interrupted, crossing his arms and gazing down his non-nose at Alex.

"What?"

"It's arse, not ass, you're British, dumb_arse_."

"Does it really matter?" Alex asked with a snort and crossed his own arms.

Voldemort gave him a look that clearly stated it did matter, but Alex was still skeptical.

Am I really having a conversation with Voldemort about Briticisms? Alex's eyes widened and he changed the subject.

"So, where am I exactly? And better yet, you don't plan to kill me do you? It seems to be your hobby--goes along with the making Horcruxes I guess, because seriously, _seven?_ That is kind of cliché, you know--"

"How do you know that?" Voldemort hissed, his eyes turning a darker shade of red as he bore down on Alex.

Even in his state of boldness, Alex still realized that Voldemort was taller than him, it was kind of depressing. "That it's cliché?"

"No!"

"Oh, the Horcruxes. The whole world knows--don't you pay attention at all? And by the way, I never understood how Snape died, I probably should have read it slower, so did the snake swallow him whole or just bite him? And what happened to his body?"

"You are no Muggle," Voldemort said lifting a hand to curse him or make a scary claw, but whatever he had been going to do was interrupted.

"No, no, I'm a Muggle, even though the online sorting hat quiz did say I'd make a good Slytherin."

There was a silence, one that stretched until Alex felt he had to break it. That's where the stupid question came in at.

"Why is black the favorite color of evil persons?"

What did that have to do with anything? Voldemort answered however, and Alex could only gape at him in response.

"Because the multi-colored rainbow spectrum was already taken, you incompetent fool."

As the thin, red eyes met Alex's brown ones, a burst of laughter escaped him. What was happening finally caught up with him, he was in a cell with Lord Voldemort, The Dark Lord, Tom Riddle--but he'd better not call him that.

"Hahaha!" Alex laughed, barely resisting the urge to point. He ignored the way Voldemort raised a nearly invisible eyebrow, but still managed to hear what he said next.

"The Muggle shows signs of being insane," Voldemort murmured and Alex gasped for breath, just to laugh some more.

Starting to look offended at Alex's state of hilarity, the Dark Lord folded his arms to wait. Alex finally got control of himself. He wiped away tears of mirth.

Standing straight, he caught sight of Voldemort again-and a smile made his lips tremble. He was actually quite funny looking once you got used to the eyes, nose…skin, voice, clothes, need I continue?

Narrowing his already thin eyes, Voldemort commented. "Just how long have you been here, Muggle?"

Alex couldn't contain himself and he gasped out, "I know you were supposed to be-_handsome_ once," he broke off to give a short snicker, "but have you _ever_ had a girlfriend?"

"No woman could ever tame me," Voldemort said haughtily, his pale, bald head raised high and the light from the window bouncing of it.

Alex woke up laughing. Tears of mirth were wiped away as he realized the very real scenario was actually a dream, and a very weird dream at that.

"Oh, God," Alex said as he sat up and rubbed his eyes with an expression of bemusement and exasperation. "That's it, no more Harry Potter fan fiction for me."

**Authors Note:** I'm kind of wary about this story, it's a very silly little one-shot, isn't it? But, I've had four cups of coffee in the past three hours, so what do you expect? I had a poll for Faint Hearted a long time ago that said, "Who would you like to see Alex locked in a cell with the most?" As a joke I put down Voldemort as one of the choices, True Colours said it would be funny to take the joke and make it into a one shot. So  
this is for you True Colours!

My yahoo group got to read this first along with other new stories and chapters, plus the September Newsletter for the group is up! The link is in my profile if you'd like to take a look! ^_^


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